A Study in Darkness (14 page)

Evelina gave way to a stab of bitterness. “Doesn’t it matter to him that he’s uniting your family with the man who burned Crowleyton?” She regretted it the moment she said it. “I’m sorry.”

Imogen shuddered. “Don’t even mention that place to me. It’s just another thing Father acts as if he does not see. In his opinion, if a marriage can shore up the family finances, he’s all for it, no matter the cost.” The bitterness in Imogen’s voice was too obvious to ignore. Bird peeped unhappily, fluttering to her shoulder to tug at her earring.

Evelina put down her hairbrush, suddenly alert. “What about you?”

Imogen clasped a necklace around her throat, saying nothing for a long moment. “My parents have a short list of marriage candidates in mind. I have one.”

Evelina felt her eyes widen. “Bucky Penner?” Tobias’s best friend had been a surprise contender for Imogen’s heart. At least, Evelina hadn’t seen his suit coming—but apparently he’d made short work of the competition.

Imogen met Evelina’s gaze in the dressing-table mirror. “He came down to the country over the summer and made
his feelings plain. He actually fought a duel with Captain Smythe.”

“A duel?” Evelina gaped. “Truly?”

A mischievous smile curved Imogen’s lips. “The only thing wounded was the captain’s uniform.”

“And Bucky was the victor?”

Her friend’s face grew serious. “He was. And I promised him that I would wait until I am of age.”

Mouse popped out from under the powder puff, ears pricked.

“You promised to marry him?” Evelina was glad she was sitting down. Far too much had happened in one summer. “I thought your father …”

“Bucky isn’t a lord. He has plenty of money, but he’s beneath us socially. I don’t care about that.” Imogen raised her chin, eyes glittering with fierce tears. “Whatever Father wants, I’m not throwing my future away on a man I don’t like.”

Imogen’s frail appearance suddenly made sense. She had been sickly since she was a child and every upset took its toll. Struggling against Lord Bancroft’s marriage plans would wear her down fast. “Do your parents know about the engagement?”

“No, they don’t.” Imogen turned from the mirror, her pale gray eyes almost translucent. Her mouth was pressed into a flat line. “And you can’t tell them.”

“Of course not,” Evelina replied, startled by the fierceness of her friend’s words.

“I’m sorry. I know you won’t.” Imogen closed her eyes a moment. “But they’re aware he’s the one I want. So they won’t let him come anywhere near me.”

Evelina rose from the edge of the bed, walking slowly to her friend’s side with the sudden feeling that she was approaching a wounded animal. Dismay radiated from Imogen like a sudden heat. “What are you going to do?”

Imogen pressed her palms to flushed cheeks. “I’m nineteen. I won’t be able to marry without my father’s consent for another year and a half. I hope I can stand up to him so long.”

“You’ll be fine,” Evelina said, kneeling beside her. “I’ve never known someone as stubborn as you.” There had been many times at school when Evelina had nursed her friend through sickness. She’d felt the fierce struggle of her spirit to cling on when it would have been so easy to go. Waiting a year or two seemed such a little thing by comparison, but then it wasn’t Evelina’s heart at stake. Not in this particular battle, at least.

“But you don’t understand.” Tears crept out from under Imogen’s eyelashes. “It’s not turning away other suitors or listening to my father rant that bothers me. It’s that I can’t ever let myself slip. I want him. I want to be with him so badly that even my teeth ache with it. And I know if I fall, he’ll be right there to catch me. If I were reckless, I could have him right now.”

“That didn’t work out so well for my mother.” Evelina took her hand. “Her own father barred the door to her, even when she was widowed.”

“I know. I’m trying to wait till I’m of age.” At least then Lord Bancroft would have to let her go. He might still refuse to give her a dowry, but Bucky’s good name would suffer a little less if they didn’t actually elope. Evelina put her arms around her friend, giving comfort because she had no more wisdom to offer. Not about matters of the heart.

“That’s the problem,” Imogen went on. “He loves me, and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep me from hurting. If that means disappointing his own family or disgracing himself in front of all his friends, he’ll do it in a heartbeat. And so I have to be the prudent one. I have to be the one to say
not yet
. And I’m afraid I won’t be strong enough.”

And she started to cry in earnest, spoiling the last half hour’s work with comb and powder. Mouse and Bird crawled into her lap, offering what comfort they could while Evelina squeezed her tight. “Let me know if there is anything I can do.”

“Can you make me a better person?”

Evelina couldn’t stop a strangled laugh. “If I knew how, I’d make myself better first.”

AS EVELINA RETREATED TO HER OWN ROOMS TO CHANGE
her gown, she’d heard the men returning to the house. There was a great deal of stomping and rumbling voices, the barking of dogs and cries for whisky and hot water. The big house that had seemed large and full of echoes was all at once crowded.

The evening was to be a dance with a late supper. As Jasper Keating was arriving from London for the weekend, Alice had invited gentry from the surrounding county. It would be much smaller than a London event and much less formal, but probably the most company Maggor’s Close had seen for many a year.

Evelina took pains with her appearance, grateful that Alice sent up one of the maids to help with her hair. Her sky-blue gown was mercifully uncreased by its time in the trunk. The fabric shimmered in the gaslight, and with a pearl necklace and ear bobs, it was elegant enough for the occasion. Looking in the mirror, she smoothed her skirts, swiveling one way then the other to make sure the graceful fall of fabric was in place. Her grandmother had bought Evelina the gown for her Season.
Little did anyone know the next time I wore the dress I would be acting as the eyes and ears of Uncle Sherlock because someone tried to bomb his house. Grandmamma was right. One never can tell where the Season will lead
.

She picked up her gloves and fan, and gave a practice smile to the mirror. She thought she might rather enjoy playing the spy. It certainly beat the tedium of trying to catch a
husband from among a bunch of men who thought blowing up birds was a fun idea.

As she descended the stairs, she looked down on a parade of musicians, liveried servants, and elegantly attired guests moving from the kitchens and cloakrooms to the party. Several of the main-floor drawing rooms had double doors that could be opened to create one large space for a dance floor. Evelina guessed that at least a dozen couples could waltz with room to spare. Maggor’s Close was not a pretty place, but it was definitely functional. In time, maybe Alice could do something about the dark, drab wainscoting. A young mistress was what the place needed.

And Tobias will be master here one day. Even if he did choose her to save his family, isn’t he better off? Really, what could I have given him?
Evelina clung to the ball of ice she’d made—tried to make—of her heart, and forced the thoughts away. She had a job to do, and that meant she was looking for villains, not logic in love.

The musicians finished tuning, and the room was growing crowded. The calendar in that part of the Empire must have been short on entertainment, because the very air crackled with eager anticipation of a socially important event. The noise level rose with the gabble of voices and Evelina began to feel jostled.

“May I fetch you some champagne, Miss Cooper?” came a deep voice from behind her.

She turned. It was the Scarlet King, resplendent in a dark cutaway coat, but this time with a waistcoat of blood-red brocade. The sheer vibrancy of the color made her blink. He handed her a chilled crystal glass, anticipating her answer about the champagne.

“Good evening, Mr. Reading,” she said. “And thank you.” She took an anxious glance at the bubbling drink, remembering rumors of his interest in poisons.

“You have a pensive air,” he observed. “Although charming in the extreme, I confess that it arouses curiosity.”

“Much of the company is new to me,” Evelina said, inventing excuses. “There are some familiar faces from London, but many whom I do not know.”

“Then allow me the pleasure of pointing out the local fauna,” he said in a conspiratorial tone that set off a warning bell. Their acquaintance was far too slight for shared secrets. “Take that gentleman, for instance, the one with the monocle. That is Mr. Hieronymus Williams. He’s never seen more than five miles from his factories, but he could purchase half of Westminster without emptying his pockets. I doubt his poor wife has had the chance to put on her dancing shoes for a decade.”

She considered Mr. Reading a moment, remembering Imogen’s warning not to get too close. But then again, he was a prime source of information. “What do the factories of Mr. Hieronymus Williams make?”

“Airships, after the German models. I have a fleet of them.” The Scarlet King spoke with the flat tone of someone who wanted to gloat without being obvious about it. He cast her a sidelong glance, no doubt checking to see what effect his words had.
Vanity, thy name is steam baron
.

“Indeed! An entire fleet!” Evelina accompanied the exclamation with a slight flutter of her fan. Scarlet inflated a little. Uncle Sherlock had once said the baron had interests in Bohemia, and she wondered if that was where he had become interested in German design. “Are your ships meant for passengers?”

“Military use, I’m afraid. The Empire leases them for defense of the eastern borders.” He gave her an indulgent look. “But such things could not possibly interest you.”

Evelina gave a girlish, insipid little laugh. “Only a little. I was reading a piece in the newspapers about the dangers of airships and how great the risks are to the airmen who fly them.”

“Enticed by the uniform, eh? Ladies like a whiff of danger. There’s plenty to be found on the deck of a dirigible warship.” He drew a little closer, reminding her of a robin redbreast that had crossbred with a shark.

She took an automatic step back. “But no doubt technology has found new ways to make their jobs safer?”

“But of course. Aether distillate is safer than hydrogen, and any future ship I build will use it. Rigid construction
offers stability. There are other improvements in the works.” He sipped his champagne, blue eyes watching her over the rim of the flute.

Evelina’s ears pricked. “Improvements?”

“Perhaps I should give you a tour of my new steamspinners.” Reading’s gaze strayed from her face to the neckline of her bodice. “Would you enjoy that, Miss Cooper? There is a great deal of shiny brass.”

“Indeed, Mr. Reading.” She almost took a sip of champagne to cover the fact that she was growing flustered, but stopped herself just in time. A tour might give her a look at his fleet’s technical prowess, but it was clear from his oily smile that he had other things in mind. Polishing his brass, no doubt. A rush of loathing clawed up her spine, raising gooseflesh as it went. “Perhaps we should bring Miss Roth. She also has an interest in dirigibles.”

Untrue, but there was safety in numbers.

“As they say, Miss Cooper, the more the merrier,” the Scarlet King murmured, inching closer. “And Miss Roth is a delectable companion.”

He said it as if Imogen were a parfait—but he wasn’t done yet. “I love to demonstrate the principles of inflation. Most find it engrossing. Would you care to dance a waltz, Miss Cooper?”

“Dance?” she repeated in a faint voice, just as the Scarlet King took her champagne away, setting it on the tray of a passing footman. The musicians were striking the first chord of the next waltz. “Shall we?”

“Miss Cooper.” Jasper Keating suddenly appeared at the Scarlet King’s elbow. “May I have a moment of your time?” He was tall and straight, with silver hair and eyes of so light a brown that they looked almost amber.

“Of course.” Evelina had heard Keating was coming for the weekend, but had planned to avoid his notice. Now she was ecstatic to see him.

The Scarlet King did not look happy. “We were about to dance.”

“I’m afraid this can’t wait,” said Keating.

“Oh, dear,” Evelina tried to sound regretful. “I hope it’s nothing dire.”

The Scarlet King looked broody, but gave way. “Until we meet again, Miss Cooper.”

Keating led her away to the front hall, where it was much less crowded. The focus of the room was an enormous fireplace, with logs ablaze against the creeping chill even though it was only August. The first cool nights came sooner this far north, and with a slate floor and fieldstone wall, there was little to keep out drafts.

Keating gave her a slight smile. “You appeared to require a rescue.”

Evelina blinked, not sure how to respond. Gallantry was the last thing she expected from the Gold King, especially with the stink of Crowleyton still in her nose. “Thank you, sir.”

“How have you fared since we last met, Miss Cooper?”